"General Lin, stop struggling." Scarface slowly closed in. "Do you think you can fight your way out of the prime minister's residence alone?"
Lin Taichu did not answer. With a flick of his wrist, he thrust his sword toward the throat of a guard beside him.
The guard hurriedly raised his saber to block, but Lin Taichu dipped his wrist. The blade slid along the saber and cut a gash across the man's arm. Blood instantly gushed out, staining the guard's sleeve red.
Amid the melee, Lin Taichu gained another fresh wound on his arm, cut by a guard who had ambushed him from behind.
He drove his sword backward through the man's shoulder, making him howl in pain. Yet the Guards seemed endless—one fell, and two more rushed forward. Torchlight stretched his shadow long and short across the ground.
He panted heavily, sweat running down his cheeks and dripping onto the front of his robes.
His strength was draining fast, and the hand gripping his sword began to tremble. Just then, a disturbance rose at the courtyard gate. The Guards automatically parted, opening a path.
A man in fitted black clothes walked in. He stood tall and carried no blade, only an Iron Ruler tucked at his waist. His square face was stern, and his hawk-like gaze fixed on Lin Taichu without the slightest expression at the corners of his mouth.
"Gao Yang?" Lin Taichu narrowed his eyes. He had seen this man a few times in the palace. He had heard that Gao Yang was the Number One Master of the Imperial Guard, always at the Emperor's side. Why was he in the prime minister's residence?
Gao Yang said nothing. He merely rolled his wrists, his knuckles cracking. Scarface immediately bowed and retreated to one side, scarcely daring